The Destroyer
by Artemis Day
Summary: Edward battles his greatest foe of all. It is a fight that will decide the fate of the entire world.


**_This world we live in is rotting. Everyday it becomes darker, filthier, eviler… I see it everywhere, people slowly but surely slipping into the abyss, and the worst part? They don't even realize what's happening to them. Hell, they welcome it. The fools…_**

"Ed?"

**_I don't know how long it's been, since the day I realized I was alone in this war. Perhaps it was the day my brother was taken. I walked in one morning, and there he was, wrapped in the arms of that monster… figuratively speaking, of course._**

"Ed?"

**_Even my mother was lost to me. She was an agent of It, brainwashed beyond all hope and looking to do the same to me. I'll never let her._**

"Edward?"

**_That's why I dedicated my life to hunting It, this fiend that took my mom and my little brother away from me. It could try all It wanted, send all those familiar faces to torment me, but It would never win._**

"EDWARD?"

**_For I am the one chosen to stand against It._**

"Edward Elric!"

**_I am It's one true enemy._**

"Edward, answer me!"

**_I am the one who will defeat It, and free the world from It's tyranny._**

"EDWARD!"

**_I am…_**

"Edward Elric, get inside _this instant_. It's time for dinner!"

Trisha sighed and rubbed the back of her neck, sometimes that oldest son of hers could be such a handful. She never had this much trouble with her youngest son. Alphonse was already at the table, napkin folded neatly on his lap and hands clasped together as he waited patiently for his mother and brother to sit down.

Trisha cupped her hands around her mouth.

"EDWAAAAARD!"

Birds cawed and a light wind blew, but there was no response from that troublesome son of hers. She knew he hadn't run off. No matter how much trouble Edward got into, he knew never to leave the yard without permission. He was probably hiding in the tree or the bushes. Why? She couldn't say. Ed was never one to miss meals like this.

Now that she though about it, the six year old _had_ been acting strange since breakfast, all silent and lost in his thoughts. Just what on Earth was he thinking about?

Trisha placed her hands on her hips, letting out another, more exasperated, sigh. She knew just how to get her son to listen.

"Alright then," she yelled. "I guess Ed doesn't want his pork chops and baked potato. I'll just have to give his share to Al. It's too bad, we were having chocolate mousse for dessert and everything, but I guess if Ed doesn't want any…"

As she spoke, Trisha sidestepped her way back into the house, shutting (but not locking) the door behind her. She sat down in front of little Al and his large, questioning eyes. His confusion only grew when Trisha reached out, grabbed a pork chip and put it on her plate. Weren't they suppose to wait until everyone was seated to eat?

Trisha gave him a reassuring smile as she placed another pork chop on his plate.

"Go on," she urged him. "Eat up. Your brother well be here shortly."

Alphonse didn't look so sure, but did as he was told, taking a bite and chewing slowly. Mother and son ate in silence, unaware of the shadow peeking through the cabinet just below the sink.

**_Look at them, wrapped up in themselves, in their own self-indulgence, they're so unaware. Do they even realize how far gone they already are, or has It's evil dulled their senses completely?_**

"This is really good, Mom," Al said with food still in his mouth.

"Thank you, Al, now don't talk with your mouth full."

"Sorry, Mom."

**_Tonight's the night. Yes… I feel it in my bones, my untainted bones. This night… will be our final showdown._**

"Can I have some more peas?"

"Here you go, Sweetie."

**_It's just sitting there, watching me, mocking me. It thinks I won't fight back, isn't that right? You think I'll just sit here and take it? Take YOU? Never. This ends tonight._**

"Don't eat too fast, Al."

**_And even if I don't survive, people will remember my name, for I will have saved them from the beast. The beast that slowly consumes them, as they consume It. The world will know my name. They will know, that I am…_**

Trisha noticed her younger son's glass was empty, so she picked up the heavy pitcher beside her.

"Here, Al, have some more m-"

"YAAAAAAAARGH!"

The cabinet burst open and out ran another blond boy. He jumped up on the table with surprising ease, causing his mother to scream in shock. Trisha knew Ed was probably playing some kind of game, but she never once thought he'd leap onto the kitchen table dressed in a pair of black shorts and a white shirt with a crude letter 'D' newly painted on. One of her good black shirts was tied around his neck like a cape, and he had an old pillowcase over his head, two holes cut out so his eyes wouldn't be covered. His foot landed in the bowl of peas, but he just kicked it off. The bowl crashed to the floor, sending peas flying everywhere.

"There you are," Ed said in an (attempted) deep, grizzly voice. "It's time to end this."

Before Trisha could say or do anything, Ed ripped the pitcher from her hands. Struggling just a bit, he hurled the ceramic at the wall, where it shattered upon impact. White liquid burst out, coating the wall and surrounding appliances. Trisha stared, mouth wide open, at the damage. Al shrunk back in his seat, knowing right away that this wouldn't end well for his older brother. Edward just stood on the table, chest puffed out and a triumphant grin on his face.

"The battle has been won," he delcared dramatically. "And though the war is not over yet, I will not rest until all The Milk in this world is destroyed, and sent to the firery pits below the earth to suffer for all eternity!"

Ed jumped off the table. His landing wasn't too smooth, and he almost lost his balance. Once he righted himself, he went back to his 'victory' pose.

"I am… THE DESTORYER!"

It might have been a bit more epic with some music in the background. Preferably a 180 piece orchestra and maybe a scary choir thrown in. Instead, Ed's declaration was met with complete, stunned silence. Even the crickets were speechless.

He stood like that for several seconds, lost in his glorious victory while his mother alternated between staring at the wreckage and staring at her oldest son. Meanwhile, Al scratched his head in confusion.

"The… Destroyer?" he repeated, catching Ed's attention and making him finally let go of the ridiculous pose.

"Yeah, I was going to go with 'The Milkman' since my mission is the destruction of The Milk, but then I decided 'The Destroyer' would be much cooler. I even painted a D on my shirt, as a symbol!"

The boy proudly pointed at his shirt.

"Why don't you call yourself, 'The Dairynator,'" Al suggested. "It would fit with your cause AND your symbol."

Even though Al clearly liked the idea, Ed could only gape at him, an eyebrow raised as high as humanly possible.

"The _Dairynator?_ Al, that- you… just eat your pork chops."

Al's face fell. He mumbled an apology and went back to eating. A long shadow appeared over Ed. The 'Destroyer' looked up, staring into the enraged eyes of his mother.

"Edward…" Trisha's voice was low, something that only ever happened when Ed or Al were in trouble. "What are you doing?"

Even though his mother's tone frightened him, Ed stood his ground. He was The Destroyer and he would not be, for lack of a better term, cowed by anyone. Especially not his mother, she was an agent of The Milk after all.

"I told you," he stated firmly. "I'm The Destroyer now! I'm going to purge the Earth of all fiendish Milk. When I'm done, the world and the people will be free of It's lactose filled evil. The Milk will have no chance against my power. The Milk will know me. The Milk will fear me. The Milk will look up and shout, 'Drink me!' And I'll whisper, _'No…'_"

Ed posed dramatically yet again. He had clearly been practicing.

Trisha pursed her lips. She exhaled through her nose, nodding her head at her rowdy son.

"I see," she answered, closing her eyes for a moment. "I also see that you just destroyed my antique pitcher, which I'll now have to clean up _and_cost 50000 cenz in the first place. Not to mention, it was the only one we had."

Ed snapped out of his reverie, and cast a disapproving glance at the wreckage.

"Wait, you bought _that,_" he pointed at the broken pitcher. "For 50000 cenz? No offense, Mom, but you got ripped off."

Without missing a beat, Trisha grabbed hold of her son's ear, first ripping off the makeshift mask, and dragged him away from the mess and into the living room. The boy yelped in pain, but she paid no heed and deposited him in the corner of the room facing the wall.

"Now you just stay there, young man," she ordered. "You're not to move an inch until I say so, understand?"

"But mom-"

"No buts!"

She turned on a heel and walked back into the kitchen, leaving Ed alone. All alone with his thoughts.

_**She's still infected. I should have known. Just killing one pitcher of The Milk won't save her, nor anyone else. But I swear, one day… One day I'll save you, mom. You and Al both. I'll rescue you from that white menace, that calcium filled nightmare. That Milk…**_

_**For I am the world's sole defender.**_

_**I am the one with the power to defeat The Milk.**_

_**I am vengeance. I am the night.**_

_**I. Am.**_

"Edward! No inner monologue-ing during timeout!"

"…yes, Mom."


End file.
